


Take Care

by Topicabo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Greg is Sweet, M/M, Showers, Soft Smut Sunday, Soft bastards the both of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topicabo/pseuds/Topicabo
Summary: Home from a trying trip, Mycroft can't think of anywhere he'd rather be than with Greg.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 23
Kudos: 148
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

> Just Greg being an utter soft sweetheart to his Mycroft. :)

Mycroft had gently dissuaded Greg from picking him up from the airport. His flight wouldn’t arrive until quite late, and there was no need to make Greg drive both ways at that hour when Mycroft’s driver was already paid to do so. 

Sweet man that he was, Greg only relented after a prolonged back and forth in which Mycroft assured he would be fine, that they would see each other for dinner the following evening, and then spend their planned weekend together. 

As he was waiting for the car, Mycroft's phone rumbled in his pocket – a text from Greg.

**Glad you’re back. Can’t wait to see you.**

Ten minutes en route to the family estate, Mycroft suddenly found he couldn’t either.

He pressed the driver's intercom button and mumbled a change of destination.

* * *

  
Greg looked round from his seat on the couch as his flat door opened, blinking in sleepy confusion. His face brightened in an instant.

“Myc!”

Mycroft could feel his entire being breathe a sigh at the sight of Greg’s smile. He only needed two steps and he was in Greg’s arms, his suitcase abandoned in the hall.

“Hello…” Mycroft let his body sag a little, let his weight be supported. The luxury of being able to show his exhaustion felt rather marvelous. “Apologies for the change of plans. I just-“

“No, no - Jesus, I’m glad.” Greg’s fingers stole up into his hair. Mycroft shivered. ”Was the flight okay?”

“Tedious.”

“And the conference?” 

“More so.” Greg began massaging his scalp, and he groaned. “I hardly think I’ll be retaining a majority of it.”

Greg chuckled. “You did have a time of it, didn’t you?” 

“That’s putting it mildly - Mmm, there…” 

“Come on, let’s get you sorted. Hungry?”

Mycroft shook his head. “Not especially. Would rather-“ He frowned, gesturing vaguely to jog the words out.

“Shower, then bed?” Greg asked, twining their fingers together.

The relief was a nearly physical sensation. “Please.”

The steps of this were comforting in their familiarity. Greg starting the water, undressing Mycroft with careful, reverent hands. Mycroft laughed at his need to, but Greg simply smiled, brushing a kiss against his stomach as he undid Mycroft’s shoes last. He helped Mycroft step in the shower, checking the temperature was perfect before undressing himself. Once inside, he reached for the bottle of organic shampoo he’d become accustomed to once he’d used it enough at Mycroft’s place.

“Missed you,” Greg said, working the lather slowly through Mycroft’s hair. “Never can find enough to keep me occupied, you know? Work’s okay, but I get home and end up just sitting there, wanting to talk to you. Wishing you were next to me.”

Mycroft listened in silence, a soft, nervous thought squeezing at his heart. It was the gentleness of Greg’s hands that helped ease the words free.

“I – I could arrange for you to have access to my flat when I’m away.” 

Greg’s fingers went still.

“Yeah?”

Mycroft nodded, swallowing. “An extra key will need to be made, and my department may request you undergo a few security checks. But, if that’s alright-“

Warm, wet skin suddenly pressed up against Mycroft’s back, arms sliding round his middle. 

“Yeah. Yes. God, you don’t even know how much I’d like that.” Mycroft sighed as Greg nosed at the side of his neck, a sense of utter rightness shivering through him. This. This feeling. These simple moments that were anything but when spent with Greg.

“E-even if it’s partially for my own benefit as well?" 

With a grin, Greg tilted Mycroft’s chin to kiss him, suds rinsing down both their faces. “I like that too.”

They soaked for a time, wound around each other, kissing softly. Despite his exhaustion, Mycroft felt the curl of arousal beginning to rise up his spine. It didn’t go unnoticed by Greg.

“Thought you were tired?”

“Terribly.” He gasped into Greg’s neck as a careful hand slipped around them both, pulling languidly from root to tip. 

“Still seem a bit restless to me.”

“Y-yes, perhaps a little - Oh, do that again…”

“We can take care of that. Send you off to sleep proper.”

Mycroft moaned the way he knew Greg liked; just a little breathy and lost, gripping his fingers into the pads of Greg's shoulders.

“Yes, please.”

They toweled off the bare minimum, stumbling through the darkness to the bed. The sheets felt cool under Mycroft’s back, their scent mildly floral as though recently laundered. He stretched out on them in contentment, parting his legs for Greg to settle between. 

“Are you sure you don’t-“ 

“Definitely.” Greg wasted no time, bathing the head of Mycroft’s cock with a wet, lazy swirl. “Want you in my mouth for a while. Been missing this too, t’be honest.” 

Mycroft couldn’t find it in him to argue. It was too much of a relief to have this after days of annoyance and his unceasing thoughts. All that blurred into nothing as Greg tended to him – thorough, lingering licks and nuzzles, drawing the tip into that slick heat and sucking gently. He watched for as long as he could, shuddering when Greg’s eyes would lift, his beautiful mouth curling into a smile Mycroft could actually feel, until the sight was too much to bear and he sank against the pillows with a groan.

The path to orgasm was a delicious slow burn, as though kindled the moment Greg had bent to his task, growing and sweetening into something so intensely good Mycroft barely had the breath to pant Greg’s name. Until Greg, he’d never had someone who enjoyed taking their time with him like this; someone who wanted him to bury his fingers in their hair and rake it on end, to strain gently under their weight as they pinned his hips in place and sank down in earnest, taking him deep-

Mycroft lurched up as he came, back arching, pouring himself into Greg with a soundless cry. Greg’s final growl of satisfaction brought the crest, liquefying Mycroft’s bones and leaving him little more than a gasping, melted mass of limbs on the mattress. 

“Oh... Oh, Christ... Greg-” Mycroft twitched at the caress of lips and stubble brushing over his inner thigh.

“Always know I’ve done it right when you can’t manage Gregory.”

Mycroft convulsed with a helpless giggle. “You may have something there.” His hands trembled as he reached out, immediately burrowing into the arms that gathered around him, inhaling deep – Greg’s scent, male and familiar and clean from the shower.

“Give me a moment?” Mycroft murmured, stifling a yawn. “Then I’ll-“

“Shhh, s’fine.” Greg managed to snag the comforter and pull it over them, pressing his lips to Mycroft’s forehead. “Got all weekend for that.”

Mycroft hmphed, but otherwise didn’t push the issue. “Morning then,” he whispered, nuzzling underneath Greg’s chin. “I’ve missed the taste of you as well.” The soft huff of Greg’s laughter lit a warm glow in his chest.

“Have to see who wakes up first, won't we?”

Mycroft smiled, and closed his eyes.

“Hm... Yes, I suppose we will.”


End file.
